Regency High Society Vol 3: Beloved Virago / Lord Trenchard's Choice / The Unruly Chaperon / Colonel Ancroft's Love. Elizabeth Rolls
her in silence as he removed his cloak and tossed it casually upon the bed. ‘Ah, yes! I was forgetting your totally unfounded and quite infantile dislike of me. Tell me, Miss O’Malley, is it in an attempt to satisfy some puerile whim that induces you to display antagonism towards virtual strangers?’ He could almost hear those small, perfect teeth grinding together, but steadfastly refused to spare her. ‘I discovered on the evening of your cousin’s engagement party that you were Colonel Fairchild’s granddaughter, and that you resided with him for a short time. Would I be correct in thinking that your resentment stems from nothing more significant than my inability to recall that we had perhaps met in the distant past?’
Daniel noticed the strikingly coloured eyes momentarily stray in the direction of the porcelain vessel on top of the washstand. He didn’t doubt for a moment that that small hand was just itching to reach out for the handle on the pitcher and then hurl the delicately painted piece of porcelain in his direction. Yet her voice when she spoke remained surprisingly calm and controlled.
‘When I resided with my grandfather, we were never formally introduced, Major Ross. I did witness your arrival at the house on several occasions from an upper-floor window, however, and I believe we did once exchange a few words when I happened to be outside and you rode into the stable-yard one day.’
He frowned, endeavouring to remember, but swiftly abandoned the attempt. ‘You must forgive me, ma’am, but I fail to recall the incident.’
‘It is of no consequence, I assure you. I was little more than a child at the time, and quite naturally evinced no interest in you at all.’ The faint twitch at the corner of her mouth was evidence enough that she had enjoyed delivering this mild insult. ‘What I find hard to forgive,’ she continued, when he refused to comment, ‘or forget, for that matter, is that your callous behaviour was in part responsible for the death of my friend.’
For several moments it was as much as he could do to stop himself from gaping across the room at her in astonishment. He would have been the first to admit that he had killed many during his years in the army, but as far as he was aware he had never been responsible for anyone’s death off the field of battle. ‘What the devil are you talking about, young woman?’ he demanded, not attempting to moderate his language.
‘I am referring to Helen Rushton, Major Ross,’ she responded, not noticeably cowed by the barking tone. ‘She and her widowed mother were close neighbours of yours, were they not? Helen and I became friends when I went to live in Dorsetshire towards the end of ‘08.’
This time he was more successful in his efforts to remember. ‘Ah, yes! I recall her now. She was the daughter of Captain Rushton who died at Trafalgar.’ He regarded her in frowning silence for a moment. ‘But she was a mere child. She used to go about all the time carrying a rag doll, of all things! And if my memory serves me correctly, she and her mother unfortunately both lost their lives in a minor smallpox outbreak which occurred shortly after I had sailed for Portugal.’
Katherine’s chin lifted. ‘Helen was seventeen. Unlike her mother, she was young and strong and might well have survived had she not lost her foolish heart to a worthless profligate who gave her every reason to suppose his interests were engaged, only to cast her aside without so much as a second thought.’ She paused to raise an accusing finger. ‘After your treatment of her, she lost the will to live.’
Once again Daniel regarded her in silence, his expression totally unreadable, then he bridged the distance between them in three giant strides, and before she could do anything to avoid it, had imprisoned her chin in one long-fingered hand.
‘And it is this upon which your dislike of me is based—my thoughtful attentions to the daughter of a man I admired, which were obviously totally misconstrued?’
Although Katherine remained stubbornly silent, she found herself unable to hold his openly contemptuous gaze, and lowered her eyes, but not before Daniel had glimpsed the look of mingled doubt and self-reproach she failed to conceal.
He tightened his grasp on the pointed little chin, forcing her head up and giving her no choice but to raise those delicate lids. ‘Retain your infantile dislike of me if you will, Miss O’Malley, but if you possess any degree of sense at all you will refrain from permitting your misguided judgement to induce you to behave foolishly during the time we will be forced to endure each other’s company.’
The warning was clear, and all the more menacing because it had been delivered in a surprisingly soft voice. ‘If we stand the remotest chance of successfully returning to England unscathed, we must work together. Therefore I shall brook no childish acts of defiance on your part.’
Smiling grimly, Daniel watched the play of different emotions flitting over the delicate features before finally releasing his hold on her chin. He wasn’t fooled by the seemingly silent acceptance of his dictum. Unless he was gravely mistaken, nothing would have given her greater pleasure than to place a well-aimed kick on his shin, before telling him to go to hell.
He cast a brief glance over the neat arrangement of fiery curls. No, he mused, he would be foolish to suppose that she would always be so quietly submissive. Beneath the quite lovely surface trappings was a determined and spirited young woman who was not lacking intelligence. Unless he much mistook the matter, she had already been forced to accept the fact that she needed his protection in order to return to England.
‘I do believe that we are beginning to understand each other at last,’ he could not resist adding. ‘If you should continue to exert such admirable self-control, I believe we shall deal tolerably well. And now, Miss O’Malley, I shall leave you alone to ponder over the wisdom of what I have said, whilst I repair downstairs for an hour or so.’
With which he swung round on the heels of his decidedly dusty boots and, head held high, strutted from the room, like a combatant leaving the field of battle in the certain knowledge that he was the clear victor.
The instant the door had closed behind him, Katherine closed her eyes, and somehow managed to quell the temptation to reach out for that pitcher whose handle was invitingly close, and hurl it at the exact spot where the Major’s arrogant head had been only moments before. How glad she was now that her grandfather had insisted that she spend a year at that superior Bath seminary! One schoolmistress of whom she had been particularly fond had endeavoured to teach her to control her temper, and to consider any forceful display of emotion faintly vulgar. She had certainly needed to heed those excellent teachings during the past few minutes, and attempt to behave in a dignified manner. Whether she would be able to continue to do so during the days ahead was a different matter entirely!
Suddenly feeling incredibly weary, Katherine slumped down on the bed, and began to consider her present predicament. Unpalatable though it was, she had to face the fact that she would, perforce, need to spend a considerable amount of time in the Major’s company. Like it or not, she did require his escort to return to England. He had not said as much, but she was acutely aware that she desperately needed him, whereas he did not really need her. It certainly put her at a distinct disadvantage, and she was honest enough to admit that she very much resented the fact.
She very much resented, too, having to acknowledge that he had been right to stigmatise her dislike of him as childish. If the truth were known, her own conscience had begun to prick her over the attitude she had adopted towards him on the night of the engagement party. Yes, he had been right, curse him! Dear Helen had been rather immature in her ways, and, although Katherine had completely forgotten the fact until he had remarked upon it, Helen had frequently been seen in possession of the rag-doll her mother had given to her.
One of Helen’s favourite pastimes had been sewing. She would spend hours creating fashionable outfits for that wretched doll which she herself longed to wear. It had created a very odd impression, all the same, to see the toy so often in her hands.
Yes, it was little wonder that Major Ross had looked upon Helen as a mere child, Katherine reflected, experiencing once again a pang of regret for the way she had behaved towards him. She had been grossly at fault to condemn him as heartless. That did not mean, of course, that she could ever bring herself to like him. Arrogant and overbearing, he epitomised everything she most